Step Into The Storm

Canopy by David Robinson

Canopy by David Robinson

We took a walk at midnight last night. It was snowing hard. For a while we watched the storm from the comfort of our living room but the swirling snow was like a siren’s song; it was too beautiful not to sail into it. We put up a sham resistance for a few moments and then surrendered. Piling on layers of clothes, we strapped on boots and hats and gloves and stepped into the storm.

The snow was blowing so hard that it stung our faces so we laughed and pulled our scarves up to our eyes. We looked like winter bandits or strange band of arctic Bedouins.

Drifts formed and sparkled in the streetlights. More than once we stopped to admire the sweeping forms, nature’s sculpture. We high stepped through the drifts, stood still and listened to the wind through the trees, turned our backs to the blowing snow and let the wind push us toward home. An hour later we stepped back into the house, grateful for the warmth and chattering about our adventure.

I remember these words from another lifetime: I’d rather be alive than comfortable. A midnight walk in the snow seems like such a small thing, but as we stepped into the flurry I was aware that our choice to take a walk was the choice to engage rather than merely witness.  So much of my life has been lost in the decision to witness instead of getting cold and messy and uncomfortable. Isn’t it too easy to turn on the television and watch life happen or complain about how things are run while refusing to participate in the process of running things? I’ve learned that it is much more fun to play than to watch the game. Sometimes the game is grimy and you get hurt but that is the cost of playing.

I’m watching an organization wrangle with growth and change. As always happens in a change process, there comes a moment when the people involved have to decide whether they want to sit in the warmth of the house or step toward the siren’s song and get messy, cold and grow. They can’t have both. Life is like that.  There is a certain satisfaction to looking out the front window of your life but there’s nothing to compare with stepping into the night, holding hands and being part of the snowfall.

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2 Responses

  1. Reading this poem you created with your words just gave me the best image ever of being comfortable in the storm…THANKS.

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